


"Trust me, darling."

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, I think that's what it's called? anyway yeah, Jaskier is such a good dom, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trust Kink, it's Geralt's first time doing this cut him some slack!!!, what's the tag for one hand being tied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24166738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: Geralt isn’t really sure about this, but Jaskier is, so he’ll try it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 32
Kudos: 213





	"Trust me, darling."

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time I've posted actual smut in so long laksdhgpoiea I'm sorry
> 
> But no, really, Geralt trusting Jaskier to keep him safe and treat him right just. Really butters my biscuits, you know? Really lights my lava lamp. I don't know what I'm saying.

Geralt isn’t really sure about this, but Jaskier is, so he’ll try it.

First comes the silk cord. “We’ll start with just one hand. If you want to stop, the knot’s easy.”

Then comes the blindfold. “I’m right here, darling. You can feel my hands, right? I won’t let anyone come in and hurt you.”

And then Jaskier tugs his hair and bares his throat, and Geralt’s training makes him want to undo it all and shove Jaskier away, _never_ bare his throat—but he trusts Jaskier. He’s shivering and sweating, torn between fighting it all and just relaxing, as Jaskier works him open with one hand, runs the other soothingly up and down his side, and murmurs that praise he can’t get enough of into the skin of his neck and throat.

The bed is soft. It ought to be, they paid enough for it. The cord doesn’t hurt, exactly, but the restriction makes him nervous. And he can’t _see_. He never knew how much he relied on sight until it was taken from him.

But his other hand is free, and he grips the back of Jaskier’s neck and tells himself over and over that it’s fine, he’s safe, Jaskier won’t hurt him, and the gentleness of Jaskier’s touch is soothing. Even the way his cock slides inside Geralt is gentle, making sure he’s open enough. Fuck, Jaskier’s so much bigger than Geralt expected.

But that’s where the gentleness stops.

Hands travel down to grip his hips, the murmured praises are cut off by Jaskier’s tiny human teeth biting Geralt’s shoulder, and Geralt actually gasps as Jaskier fucks him so hard.

It’s a nightmare. It’s exhilarating. He only has one hand to hold on, the other is twisting desperately to get free and grip Jaskier, but… at the same time, he _doesn’t_ want to be free. He trusts Jaskier. This is a show of trust. And Jaskier will not hurt him.

Well, some of the harder thrusts hurt, but that’s not what Geralt’s screaming brain is worried about.

Eventually, the panic fades, because it feels _good_. Giving himself over to Jaskier, letting him do these things when Geralt is restrained and can’t fight if things go wrong, _trusting_ him, it feels amazing. The fucking is good, too, Geralt can hear himself whining impatiently, and Jaskier laughs, gasping praise in a voice that gets shakier with every thrust, but it’s only half the experience. Half pure physical pleasure and half marveling at how this actually feels _safe_.

It’s the physical pleasure that wins over his entire brain. The feeling of Jaskier’s cock, hitting that one spot that feels so good that no one told Geralt about until Jaskier fingered him for the first time (he can’t really blame Vesemir, though, the old man was never comfortable talking about sex to the younger Witchers), the scents of their lust mingling and strengthening until he couldn’t smell a single thing even if someone _did_ break in, and oh gods Jaskier’s _voice_ —

“You’re doing so well,” Jaskier pants, an especially hard thrust making Geralt whine again, “You’re doing amazing, your first time like this and you’re so bloody good, Geralt, you feel so good, oh, _Geralt_ —”

It’s his own name, in Jaskier’s desperate, wrecked voice that makes Geralt come. No one has said it like that. No one has attached so much pleasure to _him_. His body, yes, but not _him_.

The orgasm feels good, very good, better than any other time he’d lain beneath a man. He actually relaxes, panting, until Jaskier laughs, breathy and ecstatic, and comes too.

They lay there together just long enough for the pain to set in, but not long enough for the cum on their bodies to dry. Jaskier kisses Geralt’s throat, and clumsily pulls the blindfold off. He smiles down at Geralt, and Geralt curses the fact that he didn’t get to watch Jaskier’s face when he came. “Good?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods.

Jaskier kisses him, gently, sweetly, the perfect ending to a hard fuck. Then he unties Geralt’s hand and says, “I’ll clean up. Rest a bit.”

Geralt nods again, and Jaskier laughs again.

Later, Geralt will tell Jaskier that he wants to try both hands tied next time. Not right now. He’s too exhausted from fighting with himself, and then being fucked so well. And he needs to let his mind come to terms with what just happened.

He trusted Jaskier, and that had been the right choice.

He needs to think about that.

**Author's Note:**

> *kneels and holds up a lap-desk with a scroll and pen on it* A comment, please?


End file.
